


Death Wishes for More

by Rainpebbles



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Attempt at Humor, Lots of Cursing, M/M, hopeless cause Q, oblivious idiots, overprotective Bond, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainpebbles/pseuds/Rainpebbles
Summary: His first mission as a Double-O agent was not what James expected it to be. It was supposed to be firefights, assassinations, exotic locations, deep covers, not playing babysitter for a student in his own city. He didn't quite understand why he was chosen for a mission like this, it would be far too easy for someone of his skills.Wouldn't it?
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 25
Kudos: 209





	Death Wishes for More

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first ever oneshot fic, and my first "humor" fic. It was also supposed to only be 10k words. OOPS!  
> Anyway, I got the idea thinking of alternative ways that James and Q could have met, and 21k words later this kinda happened.  
> Hope you enjoy!

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Her sigh was long enough it sounded like it fell from the top of Big Ben, almost enough to make James regret his juvenile comment. Almost. She’d known him long enough by this point to expect such behavior, and he’d been promoted despite it, so really, why bother trying to change now?

“I would think you know by now that I do not joke when it comes to this line of work, but if you have not received that memo by this point then perhaps I’ll offer you this; you will bloody well do what I tell you without question,” M shot back, her voice as cold as a winter in Russia.

It took at least several years’ worth of his training to refrain from rolling his eyes, settling instead for biting his inner cheek, “Apologies, ma’am. I just assumed that by giving me the Double 0 promotion that you would perhaps…send me on an actual mission,” he replied blithely.

She glared at him over the stack of papers she was shuffling together, “This is an actual mission, Bond. Or did you miss the bold red stamp on the top of the file that said ‘Mission Parameters’?”

No amount of training could have possibly hold back that eyeroll, but he at least held back the accompanying huff, “A mission that requires the presence of an assassin. Somehow I don’t think babysitting falls under that category unless I have been very wrong about how to go about actual babysitting.”

“He’s hardly a baby, Bond. His file says he’s in his early twenty’s,” Tanner said, taking a now straightened stack of files from M’s impatient grasp, “Already finished several degrees. Working on a second PhD now. Impressive, really.”

James glared back at Tanner, “That is beside the point. I’m just wondering why we are bothering to give him an MI6 detail with credentials such as mine.”

M’s lips were thinning quickly, and James was only half sure that it was because of the new stack of papers Tanner had handed her. She may have been small in stature, but somehow James got more of a feeling from her of a coiled cobra than old lady with an attitude. James wondered how Tanner faired day after day with her with the mild, unshakable temperament he held. It was like watching a snowman stand next to an inferno while somehow not melting under the scorching heat.

Ignoring the new stack in front of her, she turned her gaze back to Bond, “This is your first mission as 007. I’m made a tremendous leap of faith in giving you such a promotion so early in your career. Do not take this mission as an insult. We wouldn’t have promoted you if we had concerns to your capabilities. At worst, this is us letting you test the waters in your own lake as it were. Hone your skills in your own back yard. Despite the lack of projected danger probabilities, do not think this will be a walk in the park either! That boy and his program could become priceless assets to the world of espionage, and it’s your job to make sure he lives long enough to finish it.”

James sighed, rubbing his fingers over his eyes, “So, you just want me to stalk this boy while he goes about Uni life, making sure he completes his degree, which happens to be based around some new facial recognition program, and make sure he’s not what? Killed by alcohol poisoning at a frat party?”

“More like killed or kidnapped by terrorists that catch wind of his work. Bond, we would not be getting involved in this if we weren’t actually concerned about his safety. I haven’t the budget nor the patience to run a daycare, even if it sometimes feels like that’s what I do anyway with you agents. Take this mission seriously or I may be forced to reconsider your recent promotion. He needs to be kept in perfect, healthy condition. If someone sneezes in his direction, I want you there with a tissue. If someone trips in his general direction, I want you to slap them the other way. He is not to get sick or injured in any way until that program is complete. I don’t want to see one scratch, blemish, bump, or bruise on that boy or I’ll be taking it out of your hide.”

“About the blemishes. Can I remind you about his age and how difficult that may be—”

“Not a mark, Bond! Not even a frown. And under no circumstances are you to give yourself away. He is to remain a happily ignorant student until such a time comes that he may be recruited. Until then, just keep him safe. Am I understood?” she ground out, her eyes staring daggers at him.

Nonchalantly, James stood, buttoning his suit with practiced grace.

“Of course, ma’am. As you command, I’ll keep him safe.”

* * *

Usually when James was given orders to find and track a target, the information that Q-Branch would provide him with was rather…vague.

Last seen in Afghanistan, 1998. Or is sometimes seen in the company of so and so, last seen in Ukraine, 1976. From that he was usually supposed to pull a miracle out his arse, usually in the form of a grainy photo of a profile in a picture that may or may not be his target at an airport in some tiny country.

This time though, he was given an actual address. Down to flat number and everything. Class schedule. A very concerningly small list of friends and acquaintances. ID to enter any of the university buildings. They even gave him keys to a flat in the building across from the boy’s, where he should have a clear sight line into his home. He was given a single handgun and one pack of ammo and basic binoculars of all things. James was honestly beginning to feel like he had been given a tricycle of a mission. Not even training wheels. No, a toddler’s large, big wheeled, plastic tricycle.

James cringed as he changed into civilian clothes in his new bedroom in his new flat for God knows how long. Getting back into regular street clothes felt more like a demotion than anything, but he knew that wearing bespoke suits on a campus was going to attract more attention than he needed. This was a stealth mission of sorts, after all.

He glanced over at the class schedule he pinned up on the wall along with all other notes he’d been provided. His boy would be coming out of his classes for the day in the next half hour. It gave James just enough time to finish putting away his things, and to toss on some running shoes before heading out of the building.

Campus was only a ten-minute walk away, mercifully. It didn’t even take him another ten minutes to locate and walk to the building thanks to the map Q-Branch had thoughtfully included in the university information folder. They had to get some things right eventually. It was all so fucking easy, James was already feeling even more foolish about this assignment.

Having a few minutes to spare before the class ended, James took the time to pull up the photo of his target on his phone.

James sighed as he stared down at yet another grainy, grey and utterly lifeless photo courtesy of Q-Branch. He could make out a somewhat sharp profile of someone who probably didn’t eat enough. There was what appeared to be a fluffy mess of dark hair on top of his head, but it could have been a helmet for all the picture showed in detail. The final discerning thing he could make out were a pair of dark rimmed glasses.

“Well, this could be any uni student,” he growled to himself as he heard the doors to the building open up before him as students began to pour out and down the stairs. Despite his misgivings about the photo, his eyes fell quickly onto a slight form that appeared, his head almost completely inside of his backpack as he dug around for something. Even from there Bond could see dark tousled hair peaking out. Then his head suddenly popped out, and for a moment Bond was sure that he had been identified somehow when bespectacled eyes seemed to fall on him.

That was until the boy stumbled and almost fell down the large stone staircase, only just barely managing to avoid cracking his skull open by latching onto a nearby handrail, legs sprawling out beneath him.

James was almost certain his heart had literally dropped to his toes as his eyes widened, watching M’s precious asset that he was sworn to protect almost kill himself by falling down a damned set of stairs. He watched as the young man righted himself, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and continuing his way down to the sidewalk where he promptly stumbled again, making James’ heart lurch as he watched for a second time in less than two minutes as this kid almost killed himself.

James was trying to keep his face blank in indifference, like any good spy should be able to manage, but he felt his jaw drop open in horror as the task before him brought him a startling realization that this may not have been as easy as he thought.

“How the fuck am I supposed to keep a complete klutz like that safe?”

* * *

James took a few moments afterward to collect himself again before idly making his way along the same sidewalk he saw his target walk down. Now that this was beginning to feel like a real mission, James his instincts rise up to the forefront as he observed the young man from behind.

For someone who nearly died twice in the last few minutes, he walked somewhat gracefully and with an air of confidence that James found very confusing. Perhaps it had just been a fluke? His file had mentioned some night owl tendencies. Perhaps he was just in need of some sleep. James could easily make sure he stayed safe until he reached his apartment to hopefully collapse on the bed.

He was just beginning to feel good about his mission again when he watched the boy suddenly turn and start to casually speed walk across the road, narrowly making his way between honking horns.

_Jaywalking? Is he fucking for real?_

He hardly even seemed to notice the angry beeps that followed him as he bounced back onto the sidewalk on the other side of the road, and for the second time that day James stood there with his mouth hanging open as he watched the boy casually continue his walk home.

James growled under his breath, realizing he’d have to attempt the same thing in order to keep up with the target, and started scanning the roads for enough of a break in traffic that he felt he may just survive as well. Whatever deities were watching him that day seemed at least a little sympathetic to James’ situation, and not only gave him a break in traffic enough to run through, but nobody was angered enough to honk horns and alert the target that he had a tail.

Once he had succeeded in crossing the road, he continued to follow the boy, muttering under his breath loud enough that several people had given him odd looks, but James didn’t care about them. So long as the boy remained oblivious to him, that was all that mattered. Slowly, James made up some ground on him until he was only a few meters behind and had clear sight of everything around him.

And oblivious he was, as he had pulled his mobile out of his pocket and started to idly play Tetris as he walked on, his eyes barely focused on anything beyond his screen. Already he’d bumped into a few strangers, muttering only soft apologies without looking up. James could hardly believe what he was seeing. It wasn’t as if the sidewalk was empty, in fact it was bustling with dozens of students and professors that were all eager to get home.

Up ahead, James spotted a busy intersection that had just flashed to do not walk signal, and breathed a sigh of relief that he would be able to finally catch up to the target without being obvious about it.

Only, his target didn’t stop as he neared the edge of the crosswalk, nor did he raise his head enough to even register the cars passing by.

“Fuck,” James breathed out, legs already pumping beneath him as he sprinted forward those last couple meters, only just barely managing to snag hold of the boys backpack and yank him back onto the sidewalk before he stepped out in front of a bus.

James tensed, waiting for the boy to turn around wide eyed and thank him for saving his life, no doubt blowing his cover in less than an hour on the job, but instead the tousled head briefly popped up to look at the still red crosswalk sign before tossing a casual thanks over his shoulder, eyes already back on his Tetris game.

He didn’t even look at James.

 _How often does this happen that he’s so casual about it?_ James thought to himself in alarm.

The crosswalk light turned green and James followed his target the rest of the way back to his apartment, watching as he fumbled out his keys from his pack and going inside. James only let himself breath easy once he saw the light turn on in the flat above that he knew to be the boy’s. After witnessing all that had happened since leaving his classroom, James couldn’t be sure he hadn’t slipped on the stairs going up and stabbed himself with his own keys.

James’ shoulders dropped as the tension he’d felt faded as he slowly turned to walk towards his own flat. He needed to read those files again to find out who the fuck he was dealing with and why the hell MI6 felt that his safety was their responsibility.

As James wearily climbed the stairs up to his flat, he couldn’t help but raise his gaze upwards.

“Safe…you promised to keep him safe…”

* * *

_Jasper Rembrandt St. Clair_

_Age: 23_

_Occupation: Student_

_Aliases: EarlofGrey42_

_Known Affiliations: Chess Club, Robotics Club, Chorus, SciFi/Anime Club_

James frowned at the useless information before him, wondering if Q-Branch had just gone to his facebook to fill the fields. Especially once he figured out that the ‘alias’ was just an account name for his Xbox.

“What the fuck is Aneem club and how does that relate to scifi?” he muttered to himself, glancing again out his window to where he could see a few feet of flooring into _Jasper’s_ flat. There wasn’t much of a view from where James sat, just glimpses of the corner of a rickety looking dining table and the armrest of a chair that looked to be held together with silver duct tape. If he moved right up to the window and used the bird watching binoculars that he’d been given, he could see a bit more. Enough to see into parts of the kitchen, the whole of his dining table, and a dust trap of a couch in front of an expensive looking telly and media center that housed numerous video game consoles.

“Of course, that’s what he spends his money on. Not a dime on bloody common sense.”

At the very least the ‘known affiliations’ did not scream danger to him. James was damn near certain that if any type of impact athletic team had been listed that he would no doubt fail in this cursed mission as the boy would most certainly die on his watch.

Still, at least his flat looked calm and quiet. He’d only caught a few glimpses of Jasper as he puttered around the kitchen, warming a microwavable lasagna for his supper before taking bites between bouts of typing on a stickered covered laptop.

James had no way of being sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he was working on the program that had MI6 and potentially the rest of the Intelligence community up in a tizzy. A facial recognition program that held such accuracy that any hit would register as a 95% or higher degree of certainty. That was a damned lot better than the 35% that the world of Intelligence currently existed off of. MI6 had only become aware of the program’s existence through a loud-mouthed professor who was bragging about his brilliant student, which now not only put the boy in sight of them, but any other organization with far reaching ears. Good and bad.

Jasper may have no idea what kind of dangerous position that put him in. Even though, from what they knew, the program wasn’t even finished yet. Q-Branch had tried to hack into his network as well as the University’s to get a look at what was being made and to get a timeline, but they had been easily rebuffed by the boys spectacularly complex firewalls. The brief glimpse of coding that they saw in the firewalls before being shoo-ed out like naughty children caught spying was apparently spectacular enough that they reported to M that they did not doubt his coding abilities, nor that he would be capable of creating a program like the one the professor was bragging about.

James could easily see terrorist groups, mafia, or any of the supervillain organizations around the world wanting to prevent a program like this from being completed. And he knew that the easiest way to accomplish that would be to destroy the magnificent brain that came up with it in the first place. Most often achieved with a bullet through the skull.

He glanced down at the fuzzy Q-Branch provided photo and sighed, remembering his brief glances of painfully young and delicate features that equated to a beautiful and brilliant young man who was completely unaware of the danger he was in. It was far more troubling than he thought it would be to think of that face splashed in blood, those bright eyes dulled with death.

James sighed, wishing he was off duty so that he could have a few fingers of scotch. Anything to wipe those dark and bloodied thoughts from his mind.

He was beginning to feel a bit tired though, and he grimaced when he glanced at the clock to see it flash a bright red 2am right back at him.

Groaning as he stood, he walked over to the window and picked up the damned binoculars to take a look across the way. First, he flashed his gaze to where the ground security was located in the form of two field agents tucked away in a nondescript car in case anyone tried to force their way into the building while Jasper and James slept. Confirming their presence, and that they were actually awake, he turned to look back through the window, noting that Jasper was still awake it seemed and was digging through his almost emptied refrigerator. All James could see was a carton of milk of an unknown quantity, a single carton of Chinese take-out, and a half-unwrapped stick of butter.

 _“Ah, the diet of a uni student,”_ James thought smirking to himself of somewhat fond memories.

He could see Q tapping his fingers in thought on the fridge door as he took in his meager choices. It was a weeknight and it was unlikely that food was still being delivered this late, so James was betting on him going straight for the take-out, only instead Jasper slammed the fridge door and turned to pull a jacket off a hook on the wall.

James cursed loudly as he saw Jasper bend down to start tying his shoes, obviously planning to head outside. He dumped the binoculars on his own table and scrambled to get dressed again, all the while wondering who the hell went out food shopping on their own at 2-bloody-am on a weeknight. He had presence of mind to throw on a dark jacket and hat, tucking his gun out of sight underneath as he dashed out the door and down the stairs.

He’d only just managed to make it outside as Jasper was turning the corner of the street, once again jaywalking to get there.

“At least there’s no traffic this time of night,” James said dryly, wondering if Jasper would notice a pamphlet on pedestrian safety slid into his mailbox the next morning. James was hardly the model citizen for safety, having jumped off of several buildings and in front of several cars in his lifetime, but that was all in the name of Queen and Country. Not in the name of crossing the damned street.

Jogging silently behind to catch up a bit, James kept glancing around, waiting for anyone to suddenly emerge from an alley or car to try and snatch up the young man who was humming to himself as he casually walked down the darkened sidewalk.

It was when he turned down another street that James caught the glint of something in Jasper’s ear.

“Does he bloody have his headphones in his ears?” James moaned to himself. It was common sense to be aware of your surroundings after dark, especially when you’re alone and this trusting fool was humming showtunes happily along like he was in a park in daylight, not on an empty sidewalk in the less than savory part of London.

“Well, if he isn’t going to pay attention to anyone attempting to mug him then he won’t notice if I get a bit closer then,” he ground out through his teeth, already picking up his pace to catch up to his wayward ward.

They continued on for a bit, Jasper completely oblivious to the eyes that followed up from the various alleys he passed. The glared laced with the promise of death that James gave them may have been all that kept them from stepping out to cause some trouble that the boy wouldn’t even see coming.

James took it as a win though that the look was enough, and he hadn’t needed to draw his weapon yet.

Finally, Q seemed to stop after another block. Right in front of a poorly lit ATM.

He didn’t even look around him before he started tapping away at the machine, headphones playing music loud enough that James could hear the bass from where he stood a good distance away. James watched in agony as Jasper proceeded to casually type in a very decent sum of money into the screen, smiling blithely when a stack of bills shot out into his hands.

And then he very slowly and deliberately counted the money in his hands, not even trying to be subtle about blocking the view of the bills he held. James was almost sure that his own face was turning purple as he held back from walking over to his charge and slapping him upside the head. Instead he tried very hard to focus on their surroundings, practically daring anyone to pop out just so James had something to punch.

Finally, Jasper tucked away his money and continued down the street to where James vaguely recalled a shoddy 24-hour convenience store being located. With a heavy sigh, James continued his walking vigil over Jasper until they reached the store.

James was prepared to lurk outside in the shadows to avoid being obvious, but apparently Jasper wasn’t the only idiot in the city that thought that 2am was prime grocery shopping time. He’d blend right in. So reluctantly, James slipped in after Jasper, grabbing a basket and shoving random items into it as he walked along, Jasper’s slight form always in the corner of his eye.

It didn’t take long before James was once again slack jawed as he watched what Jasper counted as groceries slowly fill his own basket.

Biscuits. Pot noodles. Boxed mac and cheese. Several varieties of chocolate bars. Gummy bears. A pint of ice cream. Pickle flavored crisps…and three boxes of tea.

James was no model for self-care when it came to what he put in his body, but even he knew that one could not survive on carbs alone. No wonder the boy looked like he would blow away into the air at the lecture that James was already practicing screaming in his head about proper nutrition and safety.

_He needs to be kept in perfect, healthy condition. If someone sneezes in his direction, I want you there with a tissue. If someone trips in his general direction, I want you to slap them the other way. He is not to get sick or injured in any way until that program is complete._

M’s voice rang clearly in his head as he saw Jasper begin to rummage through the pastries cart, and James made up his mind.

 _“This may actually be good practice for me,_ ” he thought to himself as he snagged a few apples and a can of veg off the display in front of him. He proceeded to grab a wrapped ham sandwich that looked fresh enough, and a tomato that didn’t look too bruised.

He caught up to Jasper who was in the hygiene items aisle, seemingly deciding between an off-brand tube of toothpaste or some organic thing that looked like it would taste horrific and advertised a brown colored paste. James casually moved up behind him, pretending to look at whatever was on the other side of the aisle while his charge continued to agonize over his toothpaste choices. James spotted a brush a few feet down, and wished he’d had the forethought to grab that too. Clearly Jasper did not own one.

Slowly and with a delicacy that even surprised himself, James started to move his items into Jasper’s jumbled basket. His headphones were still blaring loudly, so James wasn’t too worried about being heard. It was mostly the weight difference that he was worried Jasper would notice. Especially when he had to place in the heavier apples.

He had a plan for that though. _Accidentally_ bumping into Jasper and his basket as he dumped in the apples, hoping the jarring would be enough to distract him. James took two steps back, feeling the bumps and simultaneously dropping in the apples as he fumbled out a genuine sounding apology, only for Jasper to grunt at him distractedly, not even glancing up from his final toothpaste choice.

_The organic one, really?_

James sighed and turned his attention back to the shelves across from Jasper where he had been standing before. It wasn’t until Jasper walked away that James realized he’d been staring at the lady liner and tampons selections. James glared at the multitudes of pink before him as he turned to follow his charge to the check out.

Jasper thankfully walked slowly enough that James was able to reach the desk first, purchasing whatever he had managed to throw into his basket without much thought. His glare intensified as he watched the random items get bagged in front of him.

A glow in the dark toothbrush. A single cucumber of alarming size. A box of small condoms. One can of beets. And to top it all off, a box of lady liners that he forced himself to grab after having stood there for too long that not getting one would have been more suspicious.

 _“Yes. This is exactly the array of items that one man would need at 2am on a weeknight,”_ he thought to himself wryly, wondering if perhaps if he had a girlfriend to go home to it would perhaps not be _as_ odd. He still pocketed the receipt though, absolutely intending to give it to purchasing for a personal refund, if not to see their confusion at the list of items he procured.

He grabbed his bag of items and dashed outside, pulling into the nearest alley to wait for Jasper to come ambling out like he didn’t have class at 8am later that morning.

With a confident stride, he started on his way back to his flat, James following behind, eyeing the bag that he clutched in his hand, the outline of several apples against the fabric.

Even thought it pained him to think that Jasper hadn’t even noticed the extra items during check out, he was pleased enough to know that at least there would be something relatively healthy for him to snack on in the coming days.

James smile at the thought stayed on his face until he finally saw Jasper turn off his lights for bed at 4am after eating an apple and some crisps for his supper. Then he finally let himself fall into his own bed, staring at the ceiling as he let sleep come. Only having one last thought before he fell asleep.

“Maybe I _can_ keep him safe.”

* * *

The following days tested James’ resolve on that statement. He was honestly starting to wonder if this boy had his own personal guardian angel, because he could not fathom any other more reasonable excuse for why he was still alive after 23 years.

There were the perpetually untied shoelaces on his Converse sneakers, tripping him up multiple times and once almost getting caught in the doors of a train. James was not so stealthy to have managed to sneak up and tie his shoes for him, but at the very least he was glad he kept a knife on hand at all times in case he had to jump in and cut him from an escalator or some other death trap.

And while Q’s wardrobe was…well, fascinating was the least offensive way he could describe it, he didn’t seem to own anything warmer than the parka he’d worn during their little grocery escapades. It was late November and even Bond could feel the chill in his bones as they walked back and forth from his classes to home. On the third day of following Jasper home, James had heard him sniffle once, and that was all it took for James to start coming up with his next plan.

Jasper had clearly not given a second thought to the extra items in his grocery basket, so Bond reasoned that he would hardly notice if a scarf and pair of gloves suddenly materialized in his flat while he was out for his _Aneem_ club that night.

He had waited until Jasper settled into the room for their little club meeting, all of them already gathered around a screen filled with very colorful and violent looking cartoons that got James slightly curious, but he ignored the curiosity knowing that he still had work to do that night. The club only met for two hours, so he had to work fast so he could make it back in time.

He had planned in his head for everything. He already had the scarf and gloves in his bag, along with his lockpicks and gun. Just in case someone was waiting for Jasper to arrive home and found James instead.

He had allotted time needed to unlock the door, paired with more time set aside for whatever security he may have in place upon entry…only when he actually arrived, he found the door unlocked.

“You got to be fucking joking…” he muttered, but then paused when he wondered if perhaps there was another intruder inside who didn’t lock it up behind him.

James had quickly yanked out his gun, quietly toeing open the door and sweeping inside, weapon raised. Only there was nothing and nobody. Just a quiet, simple flat.

“He’s supposed to be some sort of bloody genius, but he doesn’t even know how to lock his doors?” James groaned, shoving his weapon away and he angrily dug around for his _gifts_. He wasn’t sure how to place them anywhere that wouldn’t be obvious, but still easily found. Eventually he reached the conclusion that Jasper was an absent-minded idiot who wouldn’t even question it if he found them hanging where his jacket went. So, with an aggravated huff, James tossed them on the hook.

He had five extra minutes left on his schedule since there had been no locks to fiddle with, so he decided that he had earned the right to inspect his charges flat for any more obvious safety violations.

It only took him thirty seconds to spot the oven that had been left on. The fridge and its contents were reviewed. The rest of his four and a half minutes were spent moving wires against the wall where they wouldn’t be tripping hazards. It would be just his luck if Jasper broke all his fingers tripping over his own laptop cable.

His time was up before he could even reach the bedroom where he at least expected to find expired condoms and a not up to code space heater. He made a mental note to check there and the loo next time he was in there before he ducked back out onto the street to make it back to Jasper’s club just as they began dispersing.

James sighed heavily from where he leaned against the stonework of the building, watching as a smiling Jasper walked, once again, down the stairs with untied shoes.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to protect him from himself?”

* * *

It was a Friday night at last, no classes or clubs listed on the paper schedule that he had been given. Surveillance notes actually stated that Jasper very rarely left his flat during the weekends, and James blew out a relieved breath that maybe he would finally catch a bit of a break.

The only signs of life he was catching from Jaspers flat was the blue light he could see glowing at the dining table, probably from his laptop. All the rest of the lights in there hadn’t been turned on since the sun had set, so Jasper must have been too caught up in whatever he was working on to bother getting up to turn on the lights. Or, perhaps knowing him, he didn’t even realize the sun had actually set at all.

James smirked to himself, settling down on his couch for a night in.

Only, several hours later, far past any young adults reasonable bedtime, James noted that the blue light had not turned off yet. With a loud groan, James pushed himself off the couch and walked over to the window.

“Not even night vision,” he muttered sadly to himself, picking up the binoculars once more to peer in at his charge.

Jasper appeared to be hyper focused on the screen in front of him, still wearing his clothes from his Friday classes despite it being Saturday already. There were no signs of dinner, or any snacks beside him beyond a single mug of what was probably tea. James hadn’t seen coffee while inspecting the kitchen, just a hoard of tea that would put any old English marm to shame.

It wasn’t too alarming a sight to see, all things considered when it came to Jasper. It was a right of passage for uni students to pull a few all-nighters. Harmless, really. James shrugged it off, texting a quick message down to that night’s security crew asking them to call if Jasper suddenly felt the urge to get some groceries or whatever so James could pull himself out of bed.

He was an agent, not a student after all. He wasn’t about to pull an all nightery for an exam that wasn’t his. So, James decided it was time to sleep. And if he slept from the couch where he could just barely see the blue glow from across the street, well…that was just him being a good agent.

When he woke the next morning, with a lovely couch shaped crick in his spine, he couldn’t make out any blue glow and he smiled to himself thinking that Jasper would probably sleep the day away to catch up. His stomach rumbled enough to get him to swing his legs off the couch and to putter his way to the fridge to find some breakfast, careful to ignore the large cucumber that taunted him from inside with it’s reminder of his last shopping trip.

He grabbed some eggs and milk, kicking the door shut and turning towards the stove, only to catch something out of the corner of this eye through the window.

James dropped his things on the counter, no doubt cracking at least one of the eggs as he stomped over to the window, spotting Jasper still awake and sitting at his computer, still in his clothes from the day before, and with the same damned mug of tea in front of him. The only change he could see was the shadow of stubble on his cheeks.

A low growl escaped his lips as he also noted the dark marks under his eyes, but at least the fool wasn’t doing anything dangerous. He prowled back over to his milk and broken eggs, setting about scrambling them up with a little more force than necessary.

By the time it had once again become dark, James agitation was continuing to grow, manifesting in a twitch in his left eyebrow that wouldn’t seem to stop each time he glanced through his window only to see that damned blue glow coming back now that it was night. As far as he could tell, Jasper had only gotten up three times that day. Once to visit the loo, and twice to refill the same mug of tea.

James had taken up pacing his flat, eyes focused on the window across the street as Saturday passed into Sunday. In his mind, he had been working out the kinks of a plan to sneak sleeping pills into Jasper’s tea mug. It involved breaking into his building, pulling the fire alarm, walking straight into his flat because he hadn’t the sense to lock it, and putting pills into his tea. The only parts that he still needed to work out were how to acquire sleeping pills, which he was reasonably certain he could get from medical if he fudged insomnia or something, and making sure that Jasper didn’t run outside and have to stand in the cold for hours while the building was checked over. Even as he continued to brood over his plans, he could see the first snowflakes starting to fall, heralding the start of the snowstorm that the weathermen had been droning on about all night on the news. It just added a whole new wrench in his plans.

Knowing Jasper, he’d probably run outside without shoes on.

Several more hours passed, the snow starting to come in more fiercely, blanketing the sidewalks and roads in crisp white sheets. James had stopped pacing and had pulled a chair up to the window as he glared out across the street. A few of Jasper’s neighbors had noticed, but one look at James’ murderous expression and they had quickly closed their curtains. Not Jasper though. He was still at his laptop with his, one James count, tenth cup of tea since the night before.

Wearily, James pulled up his phone, flipping through several useless emails that he normally would ignore if he wasn’t so bloody bored. Nothing of interest there. Next, he glanced through his phone contact list, pitifully short, but hoping for someone to bother.

Alec was still out of the country.

It was late enough that Eve would box his ears verbally if he so much as texted her anything that wasn’t an emergency.

Tanner was likely with the wife and kids.

Q-Branch…

James was clicking on the little green phone icon before he even had time to think on it.

_“This is R, how can I help you, 007?”_

“Are we sure he isn’t some sort of fluffy haired and terribly dressed robot?”

_“I don’t think a high-end robot of that caliber would be capable of being as absent minded as your latest report suggested. Also, I happened to like the jumper he was wearing in the last update picture you sent over. Gave off a sort of Hogwarts appeal, especially with that hair.”_

James sighed as he stared out across the street, “And M really is considering taking him into MI6 after he graduates still? He’s likely to trip over his own shadow and blow us all within the first month.”

_“Well, if he can produce programs like the one he’s working on within the first month, it may just be worth the investment. We still can’t get access to his laptop to see the progress, but his latest update email to his professor this morning said he had been working all weekend and had only a couple weeks left from finishing it completely, where he’ll turn it in. So, if it makes you feel any better, at least he’ll be off your hands soon once the code is completed and distributed. Until then though, M was very clear that he mustn’t be delayed in any way. The sooner he finishes, the sooner we can use the technology to save lives. May even save your life someday. Heaven knows we need better intel going into most of these missions. Like walking into a bear’s cave with no torch most days.”_

“I’m starting to worry _he_ won’t even survive long enough for the terrorists to find him and do the job themselves. He’s been at his laptop for almost three whole days,” James moaned, starting up his pacing once more.

He heard R snort over the phone, her laughter only slightly muffled by the mobile quality, _“That’s just the mark of a true programmer. Eye circles radii are like stripes they assign military rankings. By that last surveillance photo you sent, he’s hardly made Captain yet. Now, if you are calling for an actual update then you should know that the school has already canceled classes for tomorrow due to the snow. Is that all, 007?”_

James held back the growl that teased at his throat, “That’s all.”

_“Have a lovely evening then, R out.”_

This time James snorted as he tossed his mobile onto the couch, “Lovely evening. Sure,” he groused, walking back over to the window to pick up his binoculars once again.

The only difference he could note was that the mug next to his elbow was once again steaming, meaning he had gotten up to refresh it was some point. There was also an apple core almost hidden from view, but the mere glance of it released a small bit of the tension in his shoulders.

A flash of movement brought it right back again when Jasper jumped, as if startled by something. James’ mind was already cataloging where his gun was and how long it would take him to get across the street when he saw Jasper digging around in his bag for a moment, only to pull out a phone with the screen lit up.

He was getting a call.

James kept his gaze on Jaspers face as he answered, thanking all the deities on duty once more that he could lip read.

 _“Hullo? Oh, cancelled? Right, well guess that’s nice then,”_ he said in between sudden and long yawns. Slowly he leaned back in his chair as the person on the other end of the call seemed to keep chattering on, stretching his arms in the air and bending his spine back like a feline woken from a deep sleep. It was if he’d only woken up from his odd computer trance state, only to realize how exhausted he was.

If James had known all it took to break him from the zone was a phone call, he would have bribed someone in Q-Branch to play telemarketer over a day ago.

_“What’s that? Oh, no I’ll be fine here. I’ll probably head to bed soon after a shower. I’ve got some leftover pork lo mein I can eat when I wake up. I’ll survive until Tuesday. I’ll see you at chess. Bye.”_

If James were any other man, he would have probably done some sort of happy dance around his flat at hearing that his charge was finally going to sleep. Only, one thing stood out to him from what Jasper had said though.

Lo mein. Surely, he wasn’t talking about the white carton in his fridge that by James estimate was over two weeks old when he’d gone through his kitchen. That was days ago. It was a science project back then, it was probably harboring a Nobel prize bacterial discovery between those noodles by now.

“Fuck. Now, I have to save him from bloody leftovers.”

* * *

As promised on his call, Jasper had finally shut down his poor and equally exhausted laptop, taken a shower of acceptable length, and had belly flopped down onto his bed in nothing but a towel, leaving his curtains wipe open for James to see that he fell asleep before even pulling a blanket over his mostly naked body.

James wasn’t taking any chances at this point. When this boy finally found a way to off himself while under James watch, at least he could write in his report all the excessive means he had to go through to keep Jasper alive until that moment. So when it was obvious that Jasper was well and truly asleep, James threw on some dark clothes and prowled out of his flat, crossed the street that was now covered in snow up to his calves, and quickly made his way into Jaspers building.

His door was once again, unlocked, and James easily slipped in without making a single noise. His gaze was laser focused on the fridge that held his latest target. Gently, he pried open the fridge door, using his body to block the light from reaching into Jaspers room where James could see the steady rise and fall of his bare back in the glow of the streetlights.

And there it was.

James sneered at the seemingly innocent white carton before snagging it out of the fridge. He paused before tossing it in the rubbish bin, wondering just how far Jasper’s self-destructive habits extended, and if he was the type to fish things back out.

“Nope, not taking any chances,” James whispered to his acquired target, gripping it in his hand so that he could take it with him on his way out. He was just about to slip out the front door when he heard a soft noise come from Jasper’s room.

James ducked behind the shadows on the wall, eyes focused on the slender and increasingly agitated form on the bed. He waited for a minute or two, until Jasper seemed to settle once more, this time with his slackened face turned towards James.

The agent sucked in a silent breath, thinking that maybe Jasper had seen him, but after a few more moments had passed it was clear that Jasper was deeply asleep. His youthful features all the more cherubic in slumber. That fucking hair didn’t help either.

The form shivered from where it stayed on top of the sheets. Only the damp towel wrapped around his hips providing any sort of cover. The flat was warm-ish, but one look at that all that pale skin exposed and James was placing the killer noodles onto the nearest surface and slowly making his way over to the bedroom.

Standing at the foot of the bed, James couldn’t help but take in the sight before him. This was the closest he’d ever come to his charge, merely an arm’s reach in front of him. Up close, without the glasses and frumpy jumpers, Jasper was far prettier than James had given him credit for. Lovely, milky skin, unmarred and all on display. His fluffy hair up close resembled more sweetly stacked curls than the mop he’d been cursing for days. Delicate features to match with his delicate bones. Soft looking cherry red lips slightly parted in sleep.

The only things that James could see that he didn’t like, were the large dark circles that stained the skin under those large expressive eyes. Boffin badges of honor meant nothing to James in that moment. He knew that those marks were only there because of how hard he’d been working on that damned program. The one that put him in mortal danger, whether he knew it or not.

It was strange to think it, but perhaps R was right, that the young man sprawled inelegantly on the sheets before him may end up saving lives with the technology he was creating through his own version of blood, sweat and tears. Someone so young and so brilliant, but maybe didn’t see yet the good he could do.

James spotted a quilt out of the corner of his eye, tossed haphazardly over a chair in the corner that was already overflowing with textbooks and discarded laundry. He didn’t let himself overthink his actions too much as he gently laid the quilt, covering the all of the skin that was just beginning to show goose pimples.

His charge may be an utter disgrace to the laws of common sense, but he was worth something to James if he was working this hard to save lives with endless lines of code.

James couldn’t help the small smile that played on his lips when Jasper wriggled into the quilt with a happy hum, never waking from his deep sleep. Taking one more risk for the night, James let himself roll one silky curl between his fingers before slowly backing out of the room.

He made sure he didn’t forget to grab the offensive food on his way out of the flat, tossing it into the cans that lined the alley between Jasper’s building and the next.

As he slowly crossed back over the street, noting that the previous footprints were already almost covered up, he let himself cast one last glance up at Jasper’s window thinking fondly of the young man within.

“Sleep well, Jasper. I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

* * *

There had been a fatal flaw in his plan. One that he probably would have noticed had he not been distracted by a pretty face and silky curls. He had removed the treacherous noodles, but as he watched Jasper wake up after twelve gloriously boring hours of sleep, only stumble his way over to the now empty fridge, James realized his mistake.

Jasper had no food in the flat anymore. Just tea and sugar.

From James view from across the street, Jasper looked about as disappointed about that as the agent. He may have saved his charge from death by science project and subjected him to starvation instead. From what James had mentally noted, Jasper had eaten nothing beyond pot noodles and apples since Thursday, and now it was past noon on Monday.

“This is why I don’t keep pets or plants. I have all the nurturing talent of a tree stump,” he said out loud to his ceiling, all the while trying to come up with some what to sneak food back into the flat.

It was too late for that though, because Jasper had that confident, bordering on smug look on his face that he wore during his late-night grocery trip. James glanced down at the streets below, noting the knee-deep snow that hadn’t been cleared yet from the roads. Flicking his eyes to the news that was playing on low in the background, he the low temperature remarked in the corner.

He hated himself for knowing it, but Jasper was clearly about to do something ill advised.

Not even a minute later he was proven correct when a fully dressed boffin reappeared from the bathroom and headed straight over to the peg that held his coat.

“No, no, no, what are you doing? You’re a uni student, just order some bloody pizza.”

James pursed his lips in moderate approval that Jasper had at least donned a pair of wellies, and also put on the gloves and scarf only after a small moment of paused consideration.

 _Probably trying to remember when he had bought them,_ James thought to himself with a chuckle, resigning himself to what would probably be a mildly hypothermic walk through the snow. The agent wasn’t exactly packed for a winter excursion like this, but he had the standard issue sturdy waterproof boots, and he had layers. At least his leather jacket would be enough to cut out the wind.

He hurried outside, ducking into the alley as he waited for Jasper to appear. He didn’t have to wait long before the young man stepped out into the frosted air. He didn’t immediately turn in any direction, seemingly just content to stand there a moment as flurries danced around his head.

His glasses were removed then, already half fogged up by his breath.

He tilted his head back, eyes staring up as the flakes drifted down. Clearly, he was enjoying the snow, reveling in it the way that children did with their pure and innocent appreciation. James couldn’t remember the last time that he had taken a moment to stop and watch the snow fall, rather than immediately cursing it out knowing that his toes would be wet and frozen the moment he stepped outside.

He could stop and watch the snow now, he supposed, but his eyes were fixated on Jasper who was now smiling up at the sky, eyes bright as the snowflakes started to dot his hair.

At first, it looked like the most aesthetically pleasing dandruff James had ever seen, and quickly it started to collect in his wild curls, making them damp and shiny.

James didn’t even notice the cold as Jasper finally started to walk down the street. He hardly even minded how each step through the snow was an effort, or that his jeans were already becoming stiff and wet. His mind was pleasantly occupied by switching between gazing at Jasper as he walked wistfully through the snow and scanning the area for threats. If there were any people after Jasper though, James doubted they would do it in this weather.

They eventually made it on to a main road that had been cleared of snow and had a few cars and people out and about. It made it a little easier for James to blend in, even move in a bit closer without looking suspicious. Close enough he could see the pleasant rosy blush that had formed on Jasper’s nose and cheeks from the cold.

_Fuck, focus._

It wasn’t long before Jasper finally turned into a storefront up ahead, and James half jogged to catch up. He pulled up beside the door, noting that Jasper had stepped into a kabob shop. One that James knew by reputation alone.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

This was a well-known kabob shop, but for all the wrong reasons. In many places, MI6 included, it was the place that one would _recommend_ to their worst enemies. Their primary business was to the poor souls who were subjected to gastromical torture by someone with a grudge. Moneypenny had sent numerous men here who had saw fit to woo her by chauvinistic means. Even Alec had used this place to get back at one of the Q-Branch techs who gave him a gun that jammed.

James was going to murder whoever suggested this place to Jasper. Perhaps force feed them some kabobs first though.

Glancing in the window, James saw Jasper place his order and then go stand off to the side as he waited for it to be fulfilled. That gave James very little time to fix this. And he had to fix this. He didn’t think M would take any excuse for a delay in the program being completed.

Not even if James tried to argue that it was difficult to code while having his head shoved into the toilet bowl while he lost the last remains of what little body weight he had. There was little choice left in the matter, James had to act.

Doubling back the way he came, he ducked into the alley beside the shop and run up to the back where the door was unlocked and even propped open a bit to let some hot air out of the kitchen. James saw the dirt tracks on the floor and did his best to ignore the cook wiping his dripping nose with his apron as he slid inside. It didn’t take more than a moment to locate exactly what he needed, a feral grin appearing on his face as he gleefully pulled the fire alarm.

He was already back in the alley before anyone could notice him, alarms blaring loudly behind him.

With a smug grin, James rounded back to the street when Jasper stood with his hands over his ears as he walked away from the building, grumbling something about never getting his money back.

His grumbling continued as he turned in the direction of home, pulling out his mobile as he did, dialing some unknown person. James kept close, only half listening in on the call out of curiosity.

“Hey, it’s Jasper. Do you remember the name of that pizza place we ordered from the night of the Star Wars marathon?”

There was a pause, Jasper eventually nodding his head, sending a few snowflakes falling to the ground, “That’s the one! Speedy’s, the one on 5th. Perfect…Of course I want to order from them. They were cheap, weren’t they? I’ll see you in class. Bye.”

James was starting to get a bad feeling about this. Quickly he pulled his phone out, looking up Speedy’s and reading through the reviews while he listened to Jasper place an order with them for a cheese, pineapple, pepperoni and mushroom pie. James grimaced at the order, and then grimaced once again as he dove deeper into the reviews that mostly contained long winded rants about undercooked meat and threatened lawsuits for food poisoning and mental trauma. He found two positive reviews though. One for a prompt delivery, even if the dough was still raw. And one praising them for at least not overcharging for their farce of a pizza.

By James estimate, the pizza would be delivered to the flat after Jasper got home. He could fix this. All it took was a quick text to someone who owed him a favor or two, and James next plan was set in motion.

The chill finally seemed to be getting to Jasper, and he picked up his pace a bit on the way back to his flat, dashing up the stairs and closing the door behind him as James took up his new post at the end of the hallway.

Thirty minutes later, a young spotted teen trotted up the stairs holding a single pizza box and wearing a hat with Speedy’s logo printed on it.

James drew his weapon.

“Stop right there and stay quiet.”

The teen froze in place, mouth gaping open as he stared down the barrel James gun.

“Oh my god, I only carry a few quid in change with me. If you let me drop off the pizza, I can give you a few more,” he sputtered out, already shaking all over.

“I believe I said I wanted you to stay quiet,” James replied.

The boys mouth snapped shut.

James grinned, trying not to come off as too threatening, “Just put the pizza on the floor, and I’ll toss you the money.”

“Sir, that’s how pizza is normally delivered. You don’t need a gun for—”

“Quiet,” James repeated, gesturing for the boy to leave the package.

Slowly, the boy did just that, bending down and pushing the pizza forward a bit towards James. Picking out an uncounted by decently thick amount of bills, James tossed the folded money over at him.

The boy was just about to scramble away when James called out again, “Wait…leave the hat.”

Fifteen minutes after that, and after a confused MI6 boffin appeared with a cheese, pineapple, pepperoni and mushroom pizza from one of James favorite places near Vauxhall, James knocked on Jasper’s flat.

James held his breath as he heard some movement inside, reaching up once again to pull the brim of his newly acquired hat low over his eyes as the door finally opened.

Jasper seemed confused at first, taking in the odd figure James must have cut. After all, it wasn’t often that men built and dressed like him were delivering pizzas, but perhaps Jasper should learn not to stereotype.

“Pizza, sir,” James muttered, thickening up his accent a bit.

Jasper blinked, taking the box, “Oh, of course. Thank you. Um, how much do I owe you?”

James blinked back, “No charge. One hundredth customer, free pizza.”

“One hundredth customer of…what? The week? You’ve been open for years…”

“One hundredth customer to ever order this flavor pizza. Congratulations,” James replied dryly, turning away and using every ounce of his training to not run down the hall. There were a few seconds pause until he heard Jasper close the door behind him. Only then did James let himself breath and rip off the stupid hat.

M would probably be glad to hear he got to practice his disguising skills in this week’s report.

“Oh, Jasper. If only you knew what it took to keep you safe.”

* * *

_“It’s a bomb. I swear. I’m looking at in in person right now and it’s got wires and a timer and it’s a bleeding bomb on his kitchen table!”_

“Now, Bond, what possible reason could Jasper have for making a bomb, let alone one on his own kitchen table. You know he has a workshop in his engineering professor’s lab?” R replied with an air of the very tired and overworked about her as she went back and forth between emails and a decryption that was taking far too long.

_“As if that would be any better. You’re acting like I’ve never seen a bomb before in person. Can we try to take this situation a bit more seriously? What if he blows himself up?”_

R sighed, clicking open a game of solitaire when the last email she had read left her feeling justified in a few minutes of procrastination, “Perhaps we should start by asking ourselves why he decided to make one, and how it took you a whole night to notice him doing a reenactment of the Manhattan project in his kitchen while eating leftovers of ridiculously expensive pizza. Honestly, you could have warned me about the price when I sent poor Patrick to pick it up for you. He was worried he’d have to take out a loan right then and there.”

_“Anthony is an artist, and his food is art. I’ll pay Peter back—”_

“Patrick.”

_“Whoever! Now let’s get back to the bomb here. And to answer your question, I was sleeping, as was he when I went to bed. He must have gotten up in the middle of the night to make…this. Now, are you going to send someone over to check this thing out? Jasper’s classes end in three hours, window’s closing.”_

R sighed heavily, “Fine. But you’ll owe me. I’m only a temporary mayor of the mole people until M finds us a new Quartermaster, and they really do prefer to stay sequestered in our underground caves. Forcing them into the sun only pisses them off and requires a lot of bribing on my end...”

_“Fine, I’ll send down an order of sweets and take away. Just please send someone who can disarm this thing. And try checking his school’s email inbox, see if someone was stupid enough to send him threats that way, making him scared enough to make a bomb alongside his morning tea.”_

“Why, Bond, you almost sound emotionally involved.”

_“Shut it, I’m just doing my job to keep him safe. Now send me two of your least annoying mole people.”_

“Hello?”

_“Hello, 007. It’s just R calling back to give you an update on the ah, bomb problem.”_

James cast his eyes towards the ceiling in relief, “Finally, I was just about to leave to escort him back from classes. What have you got for me?”

_“A toaster.”_

“Excuse me?”

_“It was a bloody toaster, James.”_

James nearly tripped as he pulled on his shoes, “R, I swear to God, that was no toaster.”

She laughed at him, _“Oh, but it was! The techs I sent said it did actually look like a bomb on first glance, but after digging in further they found that the mechanism is limited to toasting. They said he was probably making it look like a bomb for fun, a personal joke or something. They got a good laugh out of it and were impressed by his engineering skills. Another point to him on the pros list for M hiring him.”_

“You’ve got to be joking.”

_“Oh, but I am very pleased to say that I am not. Have fun protecting him from the terrors of burnt edges.”_

James ended the call with a grunt, already cursing Jasper ten ways in ten languages as he pulled on his jacket, “If M ends up hiring you, Jasper, someone is going to have to save your skinny arse from me when I get my hands on you for this.”

* * *

“Ma’am, I’m here to deliver this week’s report in person.”

The glare that she levelled his way was truly impressive, enough to shrivel the balls of any seasoned agent who knew what she was capable of. So, Bond did not feel the least bit ashamed when her look perhaps struck a bit of fear in him. He was beginning to wonder if he was still capable of fear after three numbing weeks of watching Jasper nearly kill, poison and or injure himself several times daily.

She set aside her paper and pen in the most prim way that anyone could be capable of setting aside such things, running her steely gaze over him in such a way he wanted to place his hands strategically over his crotch, “If you are trying to give an oral report in leu of actual paperwork, then I would suggest you leave at once and find a computer before I have Q-Branch and medical team up to surgically attach your fingers to a keyboard.”

“That may make it difficult to pull a trigger, ma’am.”

“Then may I suggest going the paperwork route instead?”

James refrained from rolling his eyes, knowing it would only make her even more likely to act on her threats. Carefully, he moved further into her office, for once acting like the visitor he was rather than like how he normally came in looking like he owned the place. M’s sharp eyes had picked up on his hesitance right away, if her thinning lips were anything to go by.

“Oh god, you let him get killed didn’t you?” she accused suddenly.

James raised his hands in defense, “No, no I did not. He’s still perfectly fine. He’s at class right now and has an exam after. I’ve got a few hours, but I just felt it necessary to inform you in person that this may be a bigger job than we had all initially thought. Some back-up wouldn’t be remiss. An inside man perhaps posing as a student or friend? Anything.”

M sat up straight in her chair, a brief look of concern flitting over her features before falling right back into cold business blank, “Has there been some sort of threat made? You think he’s in immediate danger?”

James winced, placing his hands onto the back of the chair he stood behind, just so he wouldn’t fidget, “Not in that sense. I haven’t seen or heard anything regarding terrorist activity, but I do honestly believe that Jasper is in danger.”

“From whom?”

“From himself,” James almost growled, throwing his hands in the air, “The little shit has no sense of self preservation. I’m sure you’ve seen the reports, he’s hopeless! I’m running myself ragged trying to keep him from accidentally offing himself because he can’t be bothered to tie his bloody shoes!”

M huffed, ripping her pen and paper back in front of herself as she rolled her eyes, “I’ve read the reports, and he just sounds a bit absent minded. He is after all working on some of the most complex coding that the world has ever seen, all the while completing multiple degrees and still having time for a few clubs and _innocent_ tinkering.”

“You heard about the toaster then.”

“R called me in hysterics after she hung up on you,” M sniffed.

Wearily, James flung himself into the guest chair, running his hands through his short-cropped hair, “Okay, well I’m here to give you some spoilers for my report this week. He fell asleep no less than four times while taking the tube to pick up computer parts over the city.”

“And in your previous reports you’ve mentioned his poor sleeping habits. Hardly unusual, Bond.”

“Alright, fine. How about how last night he wouldn’t leave his workbench in the lab after four in the morning to sleep before his exam that’s scheduled for today. I eventually had to cut the power to the building just so he would give up when he had no light to work by,” James said.

“He’s a dedicated young man with a passion for design, while you on the other hand are a menace. Q-Branch saw the power cut and almost dispatched the teams to a potential attack before checking the cameras and seeing your smug face by the power box.”

James clenched his fist.

“The bloody cat.”

M finally glanced up from her work again, “His profile never mentioned anything about a pet.”

“Well, he just got himself one. A stray nasty piece of work. Jumped up little shit of a tom, snarls at anything that comes too close. But somehow Jasper has wormed his way into his flea-bitten heart.”

“Sounds vaguely similar to someone else I know.”

James shot her an exasperated look which she shrugged to, “It must have at least several diseases, and he was nuzzling it like a beloved teddy bear. How he hasn’t had his eyes clawed out yet is beyond me. We should siphon his blood while he sleeps so medical can check him for bloodborne pathogens. He’ll sleep right through it, I promise.”

M hummed thoughtfully, her calculating eyes flitting over James face as if searching for something, “R also saw fit to inform me that she thinks you’ve gone soft on him. Something about buying him a scarf that matches his eyes and pizza that should only be that expensive if it were shipped in first class from Italy and ordered champagne and a pillow for the flight. Do I need to worry about you becoming emotionally attached to Jasper, Bond?”

James blinked once, “Only if the emotion is stress, ma’am.”

She turned back to her papers, seemingly satisfied by the answer, and James took it for the dismissal it was. He slowly got up from his seat and made his way towards the door. This did not take as long as he had hoped. He’d probably be sitting outside Jasper’s classroom for a while. May as well get coffee on the way if he was going to freeze his tits off waiting in the cold.

“Oh, Bond. One more question.”

He turned back, brow raised.

“What did he name the cat?”

He stared back.

She didn’t even flinch, “The name, 007. The report must be thorough, after all.”

James clenched his jaw, “He named it Mr. Pickles, ma’am,” he growled, the name coming out of his mouth as if truly as sour as the food.

She actually chuckled as she shook her head, “Noted. That will be all, 007. Just keep the boy--”

“Safe. I know. I will.”

* * *

Two more weeks had passed. Mr. Pickles had settled into his life with his new papa, taking up residence on the couch or bed, whichever was closer to Jasper. Two years’ worth of life no doubt drained from James with the amount of mini heart attacks he’d suffered at the hands of one young boffin with the face of an angel and the behavior of James’ personal pet demon.

Sometimes James caught himself thinking that Jasper was damned lucky that he was working on a brilliant program along with being damned pretty. Otherwise James would have taken whatever punishment M saw fit when he would have dropped the mission long ago.

Despite all the stress that Jasper brought him, James couldn’t seem to keep himself from growing _fond_ of his charge. He truly was a genius, and James always had a thing for the competent. Even if his competence was limited to the mechanical. It seemed that everything that Jasper worked himself ragged over was in some way geared towards keeping people safe. Well, keeping _good_ people safe anyway. James had taken note of several weapons designs on Jasper’s workbench, commissions from the British military. They were stunning and James made a mental note to have R purchase one for the armory when they were finally produced.

It was his delicate and uniquely beautiful features and calm exterior that ensnared him entirely though. Watching him work, even just listening to him talk was soothing in a way that James was unfamiliar with. He would miss that sense of calm once he returned to his normal missions. After all, it wasn’t often that 00 agents were given missions to watch over _good_ people.

The end was in sight though.

R had called him earlier, saying that they had checked the professor’s email again and saw one from Jasper. One that said he believed himself mere days away from completing his program. It was good news. What was not good news was that whispers were starting to come back to MI6 from their deep cover agents, asking if they knew anything about novel program in the works that could track down criminals like a bloodhound. If their undercover agents were hearing about it, that meant that word had finally made its way to the criminal world. They could only hope that nobody could trace it back to Jasper before he completed it. Once released though, Jasper would be on a bunch of criminal shit lists, but they would be unlikely to pursue given that the damage was already done. He’d be relatively safe with minor MI6 check-ins every once in a while. He’d remain oblivious to the danger he was in for a short time.

The announcement made his feel more melancholy than he was comfortable admitting to anyone besides his own tortured consciousness. He was pleased at least to know that soon the program would be put to use, and Jasper could go back to being safe. Or as safe as he could manage on his own, that is. James still hadn’t figure out how he had lived this long on his own. Perhaps his last action as Jasper’s protection detail would be to leave a strongly worded note on his door, or perhaps several safety pamphlets he’d seen handed out to children when they learned about fire drills. Hell, he’d hire the bloody safety mascot for the Met to give him an in-person lecture if it meant Jasper learned to look both ways before crossing the road.

It was getting late, for normal humans anyway, and James once again picked up his binoculars to peer into Jasper’s flat. He’d been working on something for the last few hours, more tinkering James guessed. Looking in now, it looked like he was building a gun. An actual handheld gun.

James sighed and turned away with a shrug.

After the toaster fiasco, James was more inclined to believe it was a hair dryer. Jasper could actually use one of those.

 _I’ll just save whatever scrap of dignity I have left and skip the call to Q-Branch,_ he thought to himself, ignoring the wide smile that stayed on his face for hours to come.

“This is not good.”

It wasn’t good. It was a Saturday night, and he watched as Jasper emerged from his bedroom dressed like someone who was decidedly _not_ staying in that night to code. James knew “fuck me” pants when he saw them, and never in a thousand years did he ever picture Jasper owning a pair, let alone actually wearing them. James was loathed to admit that Jasper cleaned up very well, going from innocent nerd to sexy mop like a particularly awkward butterfly. Gone were the glasses, and by all miracles above it looked like he had brushed his hair.

If he were honest with himself, which in all honesty he preferred not to be, he would admit that he preferred Jasper’s too big jumpers and patterned pants to the tight V-neck shirt and plain black jeans he sported now. He was almost unrecognizable.

James made a mental note to snap a picture, for surveillance purposes, so Q-Branch could add it to his file as potential disguises. Couldn’t be too careful after all. If he were kidnapped, they may try to alter his appearance. It would all be justified in his report.

Then James quickly changed out of his jogging pants, the ones he wore because he was sure Jasper would be pulling another zombie marathon coding session and grabbed a pair of jeans out of his room. The basic t-shirt would have to do along with his leather jacket.

This could be a simple party held by a frat, it could even be someone’s birthday. James was likely to be stuck outside in the cold for a few hours, and then it would all be over.

Except it wasn’t a birthday party. Jasper had taken the tube deep into the city to where there was a very well-known gay club that James himself had visited before and walked confidently inside like he’d been there many times before too.

James blinked, _Well, that answers the missing part of his profile that R was looking for._

All the pieces coming together in his head were forming into the picture of what Jasper’s goals for the night were, and James didn’t like that picture at all. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, praying to the deity of the night that Jasper would stay out of trouble for a few minutes.

“I need you to empty out this club, I don’t care how, just do it.”

_“Bond? What club? What’s happening?”_

James wiped a hand down his face with a groan, “I’m at Heaven. Jasper decided to go out tonight it seems.”

_“Oh, Patrick loves that place. Say’s they make excellent daquiris.”_

“I don’t care what their drinks are like, I need to get Jasper out of there quickly. Any ideas?” he asked, looking around the street for anything obvious he could use.

_“Don’t you dare pull the power on that place, M kill us both and then give a speech at our funerals full of embarrassing facts!”_

“Well at least we would be too dead to hear it, now are you going to help me?”

_“Why should I? Jasper has been working very hard, I think he deserves to work off some tension. Unless of course there’s more to it than that? Maybe something to do with the picture you sent half hour ago. Maybe someone being protective above and beyond the call of duty?”_

“That was a surveillance picture and you know it. And this has everything to do with him getting drunk and potentially bringing home a stranger. Jasper is mine.”

_“Yours is he?”_

James rolled his eyes, “To protect.”

_“Ahh, so it’s a jealousy thing.”_

“R,” he growled in warning.

She sighed over the phone, _“Look, without a real reason or threat to his person, we can’t interfere. He had no plans set up for tonight, it’s spur of the moment. That means it is very unlikely that there would be any terrorists waiting for him. All you can do is keep an eye on him and hope he strikes out. Although that last part is unlikely. He does look quite lovely tonight.”_

James couldn’t help but agree, but he wasn’t about to say that to R of all people.

_“I feel like I need to remind you about your mission parameters and that you were not tasked with protecting his honor.”_

“Really? And knowing my luck, if Jasper’s heart is broken then I’ll still get shit for a delay in the project as he’s too busy crying into his pillow.”

He heard R tsk over the phone _, “You know, you already played a pizza man. Why not play potential prospect? Keep him occupied for the night, give him a fake number at the end and send him on his way. He may be disappointed, but at least he won’t be shattered.”_

It was a good suggestion, but James was finding it difficult to agree to it. Something about doing that to Jasper felt wrong and made him feel nauseous.

“I’ll think about it. Keep your phone nearby, I’ll text if something happens.”

He hung up before she could reply and stalked his way inside.

Immediately the loud music started pounding against his ears, the flashing lights assaulting his eyes in tandem. Bodies were bouncing a writhing everywhere, the smell of sweat and alcohol dumbing down the rest of his senses. Clubs, after all, were only really fun if you were drunk.

It was a Saturday crowd, which meant it would take a least twenty minutes to procure a drink from the bar, so James hoped that his charge would still be lingering around there. Shouldering his way through the crowds, the agent eventually came up to the bar.

Jasper was only of mid height, but his hair was just unique enough to pick out among all the gelled spikes and fringes quickly. He was leaning casually against the bar as he seemingly took in the room. It was probably too much to ask that he was just taking note of the nearest fire escapes like any good patron should do, but James didn’t want to think that Jasper was already looking for potential bed mates.

A glass of something clear was placed down next to his elbow that Jasper scooped up with a mouthed ‘thanks’ to the bartender before he took a careful sip.

 _It would be bloody fantastic if that was just water,_ James thought wistfully, watching as Jasper took a much larger sip as he moved along the edges of the room, probably looking for an open table. James followed from a distance, eyes only leaving Jasper occasionally to scan for threats. He noted several lingering glances as Jasper walked by, ignoring the ones that followed himself, and made sure to glare threateningly at anyone who looked a little too interested.

Jasper was his to protect, whether he knew it or not. His. James was allowed a bit of territorial agitation given the situation. He was liable to lose his bollocks to M if he let Jasper get harmed on a simple night out. It had nothing to do with how good the little boffin looked that night. Or that little niggling sense of jealousy at anyone that Jasper’s gaze happened to linger on. 

As he’d mentioned before, James preferred it when he didn’t have to be honest with himself.

Jasper thankfully only nursed his drink slowly once he’d found an empty table, seemingly pleased just to take in the sights around him rather than slamming it back and then throwing himself into the fray of writhing bodies. It was easy enough for James to find a nearby shadow to lurk in, trying his best to look uninterested rather than creepy as he stood there with no drink or partner. He wasn’t being particularly successful and he knew he was standing out from the crowd far too much for a trained MI6 agent.

 _How much trouble could he get in to in the twenty minutes it would take me to get a club soda to hold?_ James wondered to himself, already playing through his mind the countless scenarios in which Jasper could find trouble in such a timeframe.

Far too many.

There was a simple plan B though, one that would only take mere minutes at worst. James would have to go for it as Jasper was already almost half done with his drink. Trying not to walk too fast, keeping his movements casual, James started to wander around the tables along the edges of the club, looking for one single object that would be just enough to disguise him in the crowd.

An empty glass.

He saw several at tables that still had people talking and flirting around, but what he needed was a quick grab and dash. Then he spotted one, and empty beer glass a few tables down and James was already moving through the throngs of people before he had time to stop and check to see what his charge was up to.

By the time James made it back to his shadow, prize in hand, Jasper was gone.

And Jasper had left his half-filled drink behind.

James’ mobile was in his hand texting immediately, cold feeling of dread filling his gut.

_Lost sight of J. Need you to check cameras. -JB_

He got a response not even ten seconds later.

_Way ahead of you. Been keeping an eye on you two since you went in. Jasper is fine, just went to the loo. -R_

James wasn’t sure if he was more thankful or annoyed in that moment. At least R was being somewhat helpful, but on the other hand Jasper had fucking gone and left his drink unattended. Trusting fool. He added a bar safety pamphlet to the mental list of cards he planned to leave Jasper when this mission was over. Angrily, James stalked over closer to the abandoned table, playing sentinel to a bloody glass when he should be chasing down his charge. There were a multitude of sketchy things that went on in club bathrooms.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a new text from R.

_I knew you’d be fretting, so I checked the camera above the sinks. He’s still fine, washed his hands and everything. Some bloke is talking to him now. Not bad looking. Too bad there aren’t cameras in the stall, then we could make bets on how good a night Jasper may have. -R_

His phone vibrated again.

_Techs bets are one for how long it takes for Jasper to find someone. Want in? Forty minutes and hour and a half are still open. -R_

James almost growled, shoving his phone back in his pocket with a sneer. Jasper would be going home alone if James had anything to do with it.

A few minutes later Jasper was making his way back to the table, with a large muscly man trailing behind him looking far too smug. Jasper settled back down in his chair while the other man pulled a second seat closer, so the two of them were almost touching shoulders as they talked.

Reason, logical bitch that she was, told James they were only that close because there was no other way to be heard over the loud music. Reason and James however were rarely on speaking terms at the best of times. So, when James saw the man lean in close, lips almost touching Jasper’s ear, it took all of his limited amounts of self-control not to hit the fire alarm that was only two steps away from where he was. Then he had to stop and appreciate the quality of the glassware in this establishment seeing as he had yet to shatter the glass in his hand that he was apparently trying to strangle.

His phone vibrated again.

_Oooh, it’s looking like Patrick may have won this one at thirty-five minutes. They’re getting awfully snuggly, aren’t they? -R_

_Don’t you have anything better to be doing? Scan his face and see if he’s got a record. -JB_

His phone went silent.

He probably wouldn’t get a response back for a while if ever. After all, Jasper was the one creating the program that would do something like that accurately and expeditiously. If James was lucky, he’d get a call back in the morning about a possible link. For now, he stood his ground, feeling a bit like an overprotective father just waiting for the other man to pull some sneaky business before James would be pulling out his rifle.

Muscles was toeing the line though. Covert touches. Words caressing his ear. Eye contact. It was all out of James’ own seduction handbook. It made him feel slightly alarmed, wondering if it was another trained agent of some kind. Another government trying to steal Jasper away to finish the program on their terms. Or if it was just another man who say those big innocent and expressive eyes and decided to take advantage.

The fire alarm on the wall was quickly becoming more tempting.

He was running through a thousand new plans in his head, most of which involved a bullet to non-vital areas of the man’s body, but all of them would draw too much attention. Jasper and the man had been talking for a while now, and Jasper’s drink was empty. Who knew how much longer they’d dance around each other before one of them moved in to seal the deal.

And then James got his chance.

Muscles had gotten up and taken Jasper’s empty glass with him as he walked towards the bar. He was going to get them another round.

The agent was slithering away from the wall like a snake in the shadows.

It wasn’t hard to find he man as he leaned against the bar, looking far too happy to James. The self-satisfied smirk of the people who believed they were about to get lucky was plastered over his square jawed face as he waited for his drinks to be delivered.

James wrinkled his nose in distaste when he saw the cheap beer that he had purchased for himself and Jasper, thinking his charge deserved better than that. Even so, it wasn’t like James was about to let this man bring such swill to Jasper if he had any say in the matter.

The man’s arm was caught by James in a bruising grip as he tried to walk by, and he was already turning red by the time he looked up at who was stopping him from heading back to his prize for the night.

“Eh, mate, back the fuck off. I’ve already got myself some tasty bit for the night,” he barked.

James sneered, “Actually, you have nothing for tonight besides your poor taste in alcohol. Jasper is _mine._ ”

“He said he was here alone.”

James growled and tightened his grip so tight that the man turned from red to ghostly pale within seconds as he realized the strength that James possessed, “Well he isn’t alone anymore. Now, I suggest you leave this club or I’ll have to inform Jasper and the bouncers at the door of the pill you slipped into his drink.”

“I didn’t put anything in there!”

James grin grew feral, “They don’t know that. So, do you want to leave now and come back tomorrow? Or leave now and never be allowed in any club again?”

“Fine, fuck you, he’s all yours,” the man cursed, leaving and taking his two cat piss beers with him. James’ shoulders relaxed as he watched him walk away, waiting to see him leave the building before turning to check and see if Jasper saw any of that.

Thankfully, Jasper was still sitting at his table, casually glancing around the room again, chin resting in his palm as he kept checking the time on his phone. James was able to duck back into his shadowed corner before Jasper finally started to get a bit impatient, half standing up to peer over to the bar, no doubt looking for his _friend_ and their drinks.

Jasper was a practical lad though, and it only took another ten minutes before his impatient expression turned to one of frustration and disappointment. As much as James hated seeing Jasper looking put out, he was still hoping that his charge would just give up for the night and head home. This place was grating on his last nerve. Everybody, everything was a threat to Jasper, and he felt like a dog growling at every small noise outside his window watching him. It was ridiculous, and he knew it. R was right, he was getting too territorial over Jasper, and damnit, it may have been emotionally driven.

M would have his balls if she figured it out. His first mission as a 00, and he was already showing emotion in a job that should be emotionless. He could dine and chat with the scum of the Earth without batting an eye or feeling a damn thing, but put one pretty face paired with a brilliant mind in front of him and he was about as riled up as cat in heat. 

Fuck M and her comparisons.

Even now, he was getting distracted from watching the room for threats by watching Jasper’s face instead. Watching as it turned from frustrated, with his jaw held tight and lips bitten red. Then to neutral, where his face turned contemplatively withdrawn, eyes unfocused as he thought deeply about something. And then finally to determined, his eyes snapping back into focus as he abruptly stood up from his seat and started walking off in a different direction than the bar.

James mentally cheered for himself, knowing that Jasper had indeed given up on the man coming back with drinks for them. Jasper was headed towards an exit, and James was still clapping in his head as he followed his charge outside and they started down the street a bit.

Perhaps he was still a little too wrapped up in his recent victory to ponder why Jasper walked right past his entrance to the tube, but in his own defense, Jasper was known for going for random strolls. Hardly out of character for him.

James convinced himself of that right up until he saw Jasper walk into a bar down a few streets. James wasn’t overly familiar with the bar, as it was geared more towards a tougher crowd, one that hardly appreciated good scotch over cheap and readily available liquor. Nobody was selling drugs out front, so it couldn’t be all that bad.

He followed Jasper inside, spotting him grabbing a pint from the bartender before walking over to the line of pool tables across the room. His mental alarms were silent for the moment, letting him relax enough to get a pint himself from the bar and take a stool. There was a mirror above the liquor shelves, and he could easily see Jasper as he approached the tables with a friendly look on his face.

All the tables were occupied, and as far as he knew from Jasper’s profile, there was no one here that he knew. James watched as he chatted with one of the tables, a group of somewhat large and very drunk looking men, eventually seeming to have been welcomed into the next round.

His mental alarms slowly started ringing, like a soft buzzing of your next-door neighbor’s alarm clock. Annoying, but James could deal with that. That had almost become a sort of tinnitus like thing for him since first beginning his mission to watch over Jasper.

Jasper placed down a few bills on the edge of the wood with a smile, taking up one of the pool cues and taking up the head of the table to break for them. It was a mediocre break at best, not enough strength or precision behind it. He sunk nothing, so the next few men came up and took their turns, all placing a few bills in the pile.

Jasper lost spectacularly, but the friendly smile never left his lips. Not even when the men at the table made an even bigger pile for the second game. Jasper lost even worse then. The third game was about to start, and this time the pile was quite substantial. Jasper offered to break again.

“Christ, am I going to have to save him from bankruptcy this time?” James muttered into his untouched pint. He wondered if he could convince accounting to sneak funds into his bank to keep Jasper from spending all his grocery money. Maybe he’d just ask R to transfer the funds without anyone noticing.

The sharp snap of pool balls hitting one another rang out across the room, and James glanced up at his mirror to see Jasper smugly watching as several balls sunk easily into the pockets. And then several more. All done with incredible shots, varying from the obvious to the intricate. Enough even to impress James, who had playing his own fair share of pool in the past.

“Oh no…”

The mental alarms started blaring.

Jasper ended the game in one turn, snatching up the large pile of bills and thumbing through it with a look of glee on his face.

“Thank you, gentlemen. This was fun,” he said cheekily, already turning back to the door. He didn’t even see the men all shoot to their feet, faces purple with rage as they charged towards him.

They never made it to Jasper though. He was already out the door by the time James leapt in between the raging men and his asset, fists flying just as the door shut behind him.

Twenty minutes later, James was stumbling out of the pub, one eye blackened, and his lip split, but at least he was conscious. He’d already texted R, telling her to clean up whatever of the mess she could. He had to track down fucking Jasper before he did something else outrageously stupid before bedtime.

James spat a glob of blood down onto the dirty snow.

“Keep him safe. Keep him safe. Killing him yourself does not keep him safe…”

* * *

It was finished.

At least that’s what the email to his professor said. He wouldn’t be turning it in until Monday, so James only had two more days left as Jasper’s protection. It was almost over.

The bruises on his face had just about healed by now, just showing the barest traces of yellow if one looked hard enough, so James was slightly less angry at Jasper now. Slightly though. Having the last week being less chaotic than previous weeks with Jasper certainly helped keep him mood away from the murderous.

Shoes were still left untied, and he still took naps on the tube and stayed up far too late, but there were concessions made in James’ opinion. He’d watched smugly from across the street as Jasper finally took Mr. Pickles to the vet, using this pool winnings to pay for the very long list of vaccinations and medicines that he ended up needing. Mr Pickles was clearly not a fan of the proceedings, hissing and spitting at anyone that wasn’t Jasper, and James had to give the cat credit for the spunk at least. He doubted he would have taken a thermometer up the ass half as well as the cat did. The vet had walked away with only three rows of bloody scratches after all. Even food quality also seemed to rank slightly higher on Jasper’s priority list in that last week. James nearly let his jaw drop when he saw him order a salad from the school dining hall.

Jasper seemed to be doing well, if not a bit distracted at times. According to R, his grades were still perfect despite him never seeming to look up from his laptop in class, or taking time to study before any exams, choosing to code his program instead. He skipped his clubs for that week but didn’t looked stressed beyond the normal uni pallor that most students had.

James wanted to feel relief, but there was a stirring in his gut that was telling him that, new gray hairs and weakened heart aside, it had been all too easy.

_“You got attached and now you don’t want it to be over. Perfectly normal reaction to have.”_

James shook his head even though he knew R could not see it, “That’s not it, I just have a bad feeling about this. There’s only two days before it’s turned in, can’t we spare a few extra agents until then?”

_“Sorry, Bond. There’s no justification to pulling more agents onto surveillance. If there was any concrete evidence that someone was planning an attack on Jasper, then M would send them in droves I’m sure. But, for now our hands are tied.”_

“Fine,” he spat, hanging up. His skin was crawling as he started pacing around his flat again, refusing to give into the urge a third time to check his weapon that he’d already cleaned and had tucked into the holster that he wore now. His eye lingered on the window and the street below, watching and cataloging all cars that drove by. He didn’t even know what it was that made him feel this restless. R was right, there was nothing that would indicate that anything would happen. Jasper had a normal school day, classes all expectedly boring, no exams the next day to study for. From what he could see of his flat, Jasper was working on something on his coffee table, the couch blocking his view of anything beyond the top of his fluffy hair. His laptop must have been next to him since he could see the soft blue glow haloed around him. He’d gotten up to eat a sandwich at some point, fed Mr. Pickles, and taken a shower earlier.

It was a boring Wednesday night as far as he could tell.

R may have also been correct in assuming that James had become attached. The night of the club proved that enough. After some reflection, while placing a frozen bag of peas on his face, James knew that he couldn’t blame his actions on protective instinct alone. That little shit had wormed his way into his frigid and until now barren heart, and he hated the cocky little bastard for it. He should know better than to ever let himself care for someone as innocent and ignorant as Jasper. His life as an agent would put him in far too much danger. James didn’t want to be the one to expose Jasper to such a life. Not when he already faced death on a near daily basis due to his own incompetence, anyway.

James forced himself to step away from the window for a minute, wondering just when he had turned into a fretting mother rather than a seasoned agent. That was when he heard two soft pops and cracks in the night air.

He scrambled over to side of the window, glancing only far enough to see if he could catch sight of the MI6 car parked below. It was still there. But he could just make out two slumped forms against the dashboard below and two small holes in the window glass.

The blood in his veins turned to ice as James’ eyes immediately moved to where it had last seen that familiar and ridiculous head of hair, only to catch a glimpse of Jasper’s socked feet as he scrambled into his bedroom. Then he noticed the shadowed figures breaking into Jasper’s building below.

He was tearing down the stairs of the building before he even knew it, eyes as cold as the snow around him, gun already drawn and uncaring if he encountered anyone on the way.

“There here. Two agents down. Send back up.” James snapped into his phone while calling R, only to hang up immediately after, both hands wrapped around his gun. That car was supposed to be his immediate back up, but they were dead now and it would take at least ten minutes for MI6 to mobilize a team and make it to the flat if he was being optimistic. He was on his own until then.

 _One bloody pack of ammo,_ he recalled bitterly. From his count, there had been six men entering the building. That didn’t leave him much wiggle room for error. His only hope would be catching them by surprise from behind. He just had to make sure that he didn’t hurt Jasper in the crossfire. He hoped that whatever caused Jasper to run to his bedroom kept him in there for enough time for James to make it up the stairs.

He bounded up to Jasper’s floor, taking care to keep his footfalls silent against the old, dirty and worn carpet. He only slowed down once he was five paces away from the door that remained open, having been shot open. He hadn’t heard a shot, so they must have been working with silencers. Smart. Dangerous.

James keen eyes noted that for once, it had actually been locked. Little good that it did against a gun.

He peeked around the edge of the door, squinting into the darkness of the apartment. He could barely see anything, not even the damned blue glow of the laptop.

_When did the lights go off?_

It was only when his eyes adjusted to the faint glow from the streetlamps through the window that James caught sight of shadows moving. Then he heard them start to whisper harshly. His Russian was never rusty thanks to Alec, so he didn’t even have to concentrate to translate their words.

“Where did the brat go? Wasn’t he just here?”

“Shut up, we would have met him on the stairs. He’s still here. Hiding. Kill him. Find laptop and destroy.”

“Here little kitten…Come on out.”

“We have to move fast; he will try to call the police.”

James soaked in all the information he needed. They were here for exactly what MI6 had feared. Destruction of a life saving program, and the brilliant mind that had created it. He clenched his jaw, thinking of a thousand painful ways to dispatch each of the men in that room who would do harm to Jasper.

He didn’t see or hear Jasper yet though. He must have been hiding, James hoped anyway as he began to make his way into the flat, moving silently in the same shadows he’d used on the night of the deathly noodles to remain unnoticed. He heard three of the men bang their way into Jasper’s bedroom while two others slammed their way into the bathroom, all with their guns trained in front of them.

Only one stayed in the living room, right in sight of James.

Not hearing any shouting and cries for help, James moved swiftly, snapping the neck of the oblivious man before slowly lowering him down onto Jasper’s ugly red and orange carpet.

He could hear the Russian’s in the bathroom cursing softly, not being able to find their target.

That was because Jasper was in his bedroom. James had seen him run in there. He took a deep breath as he stalked forward through the living area, noting that Jasper’s laptop was not on the coffee table anymore. He had taken it with him.

He didn’t have time to ponder Jasper’s oddly smart and hasty retreat into his room because just then the two from the bathroom came out, shouting as they caught sight of James. The three from the bedroom emerged at the sudden noise, raising up their guns as they entered. Nobody paused to ask questions.

Frankly, rude.

Diving down behind the couch, the flat was suddenly ablaze with bullets flying all around him, destroying everything in sight with the unrelenting hail. The toaster, the table held together with duct tape, even the coat and scarf hanging on the wall suddenly were pelted with holes.

James was lucky to only have gotten only a graze on his shoulder, hissing as he rolled over on the injury as he took cover. Around him the stuffing of the cushions was flying all around in mockery of snow, and James knew he had to act soon or be shot through the dwindling furniture.

He swung around the base of the couch, already freely firing off bullets against the shadowed figures, all of them too bulky to have been Jasper. He was careful to keep his aim away from the open door of the bedroom in case a stray bullet found its way in.

He spared only one passing thought to where Mr. Pickles may have gotten in the fray but decided it would have to be a secondary concern. Jasper was his priority. He had to keep him safe. Jasper had to stay safe.

His grin turned feral when he heard two death cries from the men, and at least one or two more with non-urgently fatal wounds. Three down, three to go.

But where was Jasper?

_“Bond! Cover your eyes!”_

James didn’t even have time to register that it was Jasper’s voice before he was obeying the command, shielding his eyes with his arm as the room was suddenly flooded with lights again. Shots rang out randomly around them, pinging off of the walls and floor. He heard one sharp shout of pain, but it didn’t come from him. Perhaps friendly fire on their part? Having avoided getting momentarily blinded, James was able to quickly duck up and scan the room for his remaining targets.

He picked up several things in his quick scan.

There were indeed three men left standing. Two of which had superficial wounds and were blinking harshly while trying to reload. The third man was ducking back into the bedroom, stalking angrily towards a small form that was dashing away from the light switch.

_Jasper._

James growled low in his throat, trying to determine if he’d survive a dash across the flat long enough to take out the man who was fisting his hand into those dark curls roughly, pulling a sharp cry from Jasper who was curled over something he held against his chest. He found he didn’t really care at that point, the pained cry urging him into motion as he sprinted across the room, emptying his last two bullets into the two men outside of the bedroom, not even pausing to watch their fall to the ground in bloodied heaps. He only registered the clicking of an empty gun barrel as he swiftly ducked into Jasper’s bedroom.

The man that held Jasper against his chest was enormous in size, even putting 004 to shame when it came to looking like he just stepped off an action movie set. His thick arms were wrapped dangerously around Jasper’s delicate throat, causing the smaller man to gasp and wheeze in his grasp. He wasn’t clawing at the man’s arms though, like most in his situation would be doing. He still had his arms tucked tightly across his middle, holding something tightly. His face seemed calm if not for the sheen of fear in his bright eyes. That’s when his gaze picked up the stain of red that was growing on Jasper’s sleeve. He had been the one to get hit when he turned the lights back on.

James lifted his gun to point it directly at the man’s head, “I would highly recommend letting go of the boy right now if you don’t want me to put another orifice in your ugly face.”

The man sneered back at him, clearly missing several teeth, common for lifelong mercenaries for hire, “You think I am stupid? I know you are out of ammo. I think I just shoot you and boy here and get paid, no?”

He wasn’t wrong, James had just _hoped_ that he was stupid and wouldn’t notice that he was trying to bluff his way out of this mess. Perhaps it was a good thing M hadn’t sent him to Casino Royale for his first 00 mission if his bluffing was bad enough to be called out by a basic merc. James had to do something though, the stain on Jasper’s arm was getting worse, and the only one armed in that room had no reason to keep either of them alive.

 _“Bond”_ came the choked call as Jasper tried to get his attention.

James glanced at him, watching as those intelligent eyes flickered downwards and up again at James in a deliberate way. His clever little shite was planning something. He looked back at Jasper’s hands that were still clutching desperately to something small and black.

_Was that the hairdryer?_

The merc hardly noticed the exchange, laughing at his victim thinking he was calling out desperately for help, “How sad, your agent can’t save you now, boy. Who should I kill first then, hmm?”

Then Jasper winked and slammed his head back against the mercs jaw with a loud crack that made even the agent wince in sympathy. The merc staggered back, his grip still on Jasper, but finally off balance enough to allow Jasper just enough movement to fling the object in his hands over to James who caught it deftly in his grasp.

 _Definitely looks and feel like a gun,_ James thought before brandishing it and taking aim.

The shot rang out across the room, and the mercs body crashed to the floor like a boulder as the bullet tore through his skull, pulling Jasper down with him.

“Jasper!” James called out, rushing forward and pushing the heavy body off of the struggling boffin beneath.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” came the exasperated voice as they finally managed to get him out from under the massive body and sitting up against the bed. Anxiously, James began to scan over Jasper for more injury, noting the bruising around his neck as well as the wince when he felt the bump forming on the back of his head.

“I swear, nobody mentions how much that move bloody hurts in the movies. Or how you nearly knock yourself out in the process,” he grumbled.

James let out an unexpected laugh, “You build up tolerance over time unless you have a naturally thick skull.”

Jasper snorted, “I’ll be sure to let all who have accused me of such in the past know that their theory has since proven false.”

James was about to reply when he heard a rush of footsteps coming into the flat. He was up and turning with Jasper’s gun just as a hoard of MI6 men came in armed to the teeth and staring at the carnage around them.

“About bloody time you all showed up, I was wondering if I’d have to bluff my way out of this mess by brandishing my toaster.”

They all glanced to James in confusion.

The agent merely shrugged, dropping his hand to his side, “At ease, everyone. The asset is safe.”

* * *

After a very strongly worded and almost violent encounter with the paramedics, Jasper finally allowed them to tend to his wounds but under the compromise that he would not be taken anywhere until he had time to pack a travel bag for Mr. Pickles and himself before they would be carted off to a safehouse. James had been startled at first that his normally calm and collected charge even knew such words, but it quickly turned to admiration when he was able to easily boss the clean-up crew around when they weren’t handling his tech to his higher standards.

The paramedics worked quickly, confirming that there were no signs of concussion, no tracheal damage, and that the bullet wound had taken a nasty chunk out of his arm, but would heal with a few stitches that they also did remarkably fast. They didn’t even bother arguing with James about doing anything more than tossing some gauze over the wound in his shoulder, something that he was rather pleased about. Perhaps they were finally learning.

Mr. Pickles had finally emerged from his hiding place promptly around his normal dinner time, demanding food from his master like their home had not been a warzone not even an hour before. Apparently, Jasper had locked him in the closet after the first shots outside went off, only to be freed when one of the MI6 agents started pocking around for any more threats. After eating his fill, he had chosen to perch himself on the kitchen table, watching over the movements of the strangers in his flat and hissing wetly whenever anyone came too close. Jasper seemed to be the only one he allowed to pet his mangy coat.

Despite the assurances that Jasper would be fine with some time and rest, James still felt a lurch in his heart as he stepped into the kitchen and took in the blood stained bandage that wrapped around his arm from where it peaked out from the sleeve of his pajamas. They weren’t alone, seeing as the clean up crew, along with several armed guards, were scattered about the flat, but as James sat down at the duct taped table that had somehow survived the fire fight, the rest of the world seemed to disappear around them as they formally locked eyes for the first time.

“You knew my name,” James said as greeting.

A sly grin crossed Jasper’s exhausted face, “I did. And you know a lot more about me than my name,” he shot back, but not with any hint of annoyance. More like a challenge. James loved challenges.

“I do,” he replied with a matching grin, “Care to tell me how, or would you prefer to answer formally to my people? I can’t promise they’ll be as laid back about the answer as I will be.”

Jasper’s grin grew, “If your _people_ were even half as good with computers as myself then perhaps, I wouldn’t have known anything and your plan of keeping me ignorant to the threats on my life. And perhaps I wouldn’t have thought to bring home one of my weapon prototypes, you know, the one that saved both our lives.”

James leaned back in the rickety chair, the thrill of finding a worthy opponent curling in his veins as he bared his teeth almost ferally, “How did you do it? How did you know about us?”

Jasper almost looked a bit sheepish for a moment, glancing around the room as if just noticing that it was filled with MI6 personnel that could just as easily make his disappear as they could keep him safe, “Ah, that. I may have written a program a long time ago that alerts me whenever my name is searched, then plugged it into a lot of different government agencies…” he trailed off, biting his lip as he waited for James reaction.

James merely raised a brow.

“I have a lot of projects that could be considered high profile, I just wanted to get a heads up if my name or work was circulating in a bad way. Seemed easier to track government records than criminal ones, seeing as most criminal networks don’t even _have_ a network or even servers to hack into. And I was right, wasn’t I? MI6 had a file on me the moment my professor got a little loose lipped about my facial recognition program, and right away I knew that I was in danger, and that they had assigned me an agent as a stealthy bodyguard,” he defended, arms crossing over his chest, wincing only slightly when it jarred his injury.

“You looked at my file, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, I needed to know if the person they assigned me was competent,” he replied smugly.

James chuckled, wondering how the hell they had missed this all along, that this man was on to them from day one, “You worried about me being competent when you don’t even seem to know how to tie a shoe, or cross a damn street?”

Jasper blushed furiously, sinking down into his chair, “Ah, about all that…I may have been fucking around with you a bit.”

“Excuse me?”

Jasper flinched guiltily, “That first day, as I left my class, I spotted you waiting by the street. I was so shocked that you were there that I lost my footing, nearly fell down the bloody stairs and died. But I saw your face for a brief second as I got back up, and…honestly the look on your face was hilarious enough that I tested it again by tripping myself a few moments later. After that…it kind of became a game?”

James mouth dropped open, “You mean to tell me that you walked into traffic on purpose?”

“I was testing your reflexes.”

“The late-night grocery run?”

“I was hungry and you were looking menacing enough that I felt secure knowing nobody would approach us,” Jasper replied smugly, “Also thanks for the scarf and gloves. I had been saving my money for a new server, so I’ve been living a bit lean.”

“You knew I left those,” James said, running a hand over his face wearily as he wondered if he should rethink his career in espionage.

Jasper nodded sagely, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice a real cashmere scarf and authentic leather gloves suddenly left in my shoddy flat next to my thrift store jacket? Also, what on earth did you have against my leftovers?”

“They aren’t leftovers if they are suddenly capable of producing new life. I wasn’t allowed to let you make yourself sick and delay the progress of your work.”

Jasper rolled his eyes as he began to idly pat Mr. Pickles, the ugly thing starting to purr loudly even though its face looked like it permanently had a lemon stuck in it’s teeth, “That explains the magically appearing fruit and veg in my basket I suppose.”

Then something else occurred to the agent, James clenched his jaw, “The bloody cat?”

Jasper frowned, “What about Mr. Pickles?” he asked sounding offended.

“…nothing, he’s lovely.”

Jasper hummed in suspicion but let the comment pass as he continued to lightly run his fingers through the patchy fur. Apparently the adoption had not been planned, nor was it just to mess with Bond. He had actually wanted to keep the wretched thing. How utterly vexing and kind of him.

“Sleeping on the tube?”

“I was honestly tired, and I knew you would keep me safe by then,” Jasper replied with a soft smile, his eyes distant and unfocused.

A silence fell between them for a moment after the soft confession. With those words he had sounded so fond just then, like he had truly felt safe and protected by James’ presence. Even if the little brat had been actively trying to give him a daily heart attack or two. A few MI6 agents walked by them, going for another perimeter walk, James’ gaze following their progress until his eyes caught on something else on the counter by the microwave.

He turned back to Jasper, squinting over at him in suspicion, “The toaster?”

Jasper at least had the conscience enough to look apologetic, “Yeah, I may have just been fucking with you on that one. I was having a bit of insomnia and got bored you see…”

James held up his hand, not wanting to hear any more of it in case someone overheard, and it got back to R and M. He did not need it to be common knowledge that he had been tricked by a uni student into believing a toaster was a bomb. Alec would never be able to look at a toaster, or bomb, again without laughing hysterically if he ever found out. It would be terrible for his career in stealth.

Sighing dramatically once the guards had passed by, James turned his glare back to Jasper as the young man pulled Mr. Pickles closer to his chest. Probably thinking of using him as a first line of defense if James decided that Jasper had caused one too many offenses.

“The pub fight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who scared off my date for the night. I hacked into the camera feeds and saw you threatening him. I was pissed and frustrated, and I needed some cash for the vet bills. That one is on you.”

There were so many more offenses that James would have loved to ask just to see Jasper squirm in his chair so more, but it was getting late. Jasper was injured and exhausted, and so was James. They could go back and forth on this for years, only overflowing James’ embarrassment quota for the next decade at least, but he may have had enough for the night. Or forever. He knew now that Jasper was a little shite. A very clever, slightly vindictive, unfairly pretty, and brilliantly humorous little shite.

He laughed softly to himself, wondering if he had maybe known all this already, but was too focused on his mission to see Jasper for what and who he was really, which was far more than just an asset. He even began to wonder if M had known all along what Jasper was really like, and that’s why she was considering hiring him. Such a cleverly wicked mind belonged at MI6, belonged in Q-Branch. Hell, belonged to the title Quartermaster.

Jasper slowly began to ease his muscles as he realized that James wasn’t about to leap across the table to choke the life out of him, the corners of his eyes relaxing for the first time in days.

“I wanted to thank you, Bond. For keeping me safe this whole time, for taking care of me in ways that I did not think the government would for a simple civilian. The pizza was quite tasty, by the way, I was just rather alarmed that it was delivered by a handsome armed agent rather than some poor spotted teen,” he kidded, eyes twinkling with mirth.

James shrugged his shoulders, ignoring the warmth that pooled in his belly as Jasper stared at him with that secret little smile of his.

“I didn’t think it was an agent’s job to tuck in their charges, either, but I appreciate the gesture all the same,” he added with a small laugh.

James beat down the blush that threatened to appear with a mental hammer, “Like I said, I was told to keep you from getting sick,” he murmured, eyes already scanning the flat now for the cameras that now he knew Jasper must have had somewhere. Rookie mistake.

“You won’t find the cameras. Personal design, hidden in various objects around the room,” he said proudly.

Once again sinking back in his chair, James turned to look at Jasper again in a new light. Before he had thought him to be an arrogant boy of no common sense, but now, he could see a well-earned confidence in a man who was too smart for this own good. He was everything James had ever dreamed of finding in a partner, everything and more. He could already feel the attraction that had been there all along begin to swell.

“Did you even need MI6’s protection?” he asked suddenly.

Jasper seemed to be caught off guard by the question for a moment, taking a minute or two to think over his answer, still running his hands through Mr. Pickles fur, “My program was never in danger of being destroyed, so you all needn’t have worried about that. If those mercenaries’ truly thought that just breaking my laptop would be the end of it, then they would have been sorely mistaken. I had a back-up of all my work automated to save to an off-site server that nobody would know the location to. If they had succeeded in killing me, it would have been only 48 hours later of inactivity that it would be automatically circulated to the relevant parties, finished or not. I’m sure they would have eventually figure out how to complete my work. As for myself…cameras and a prototype gun could only go so far for me. I would have easily been dead if it weren’t for your intervention, and I’m not so arrogant to believe it would be any other way. So, yes. I did need your protection, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

“I would say it was a group effort in this case. It was your quick thinking and that prototype that saved us both in the end, even if it was me pulling the trigger. You would do very well on our team I think. I’d be honored if you would come work with us once you complete your degree,” James said, trying to sound happy about it, because this is what M had wanted. The perfect candidate to whip Q-Branch into shape and bring them into the current and future centuries. It didn’t matter what James wanted after all, which was to whisk Jasper away for a few well-earned weeks of vacation someplace warm, tropical and romantic.

Jasper raised a brow, a sly grin on his face, “You’re offering me a job?”

James choked out a laugh, “I suppose I am? M was already thinking of it, and I know once she reads my report of tonight she’ll either hire you on the spot, or have you drugged and kidnapped so she can squirrel you away down in Q-Branch if you try to refuse.”

Jasper snorted, “Well, I suppose I should say yes then, but I was rather hoping that you would be offering something else after all you’ve done for me.”

“And what would that be?” James asked, curiosity peaked.

Jasper smirked, “Me a date.”

A spark of hope and desire flickered into flame.

“As long as it isn’t at that bloody kabob place, I’ll take you anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any comments you have, I'd love to hear back on this one! <3


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